No Promises
by Pica Britanica
Summary: When Alfendi and Lucy find themselves in a chase gone wrong, it's up to Potty Prof to save the day. Or, is it? (I'm aware this is the vaguest summary I could have written, but just go with it, okay?)


It was one of those unfortunate, rare occasions when the inhabitants of the Mystery Room were forced to leave the comfort of their office and visit an actual crime scene. Lucy was, literally, bouncing with excitement at the prospect. Alfendi was not.

"I don't see why I can't just use the Recreation machine like normal," Alfendi muttered as he shoved his police badge into his coat pocket along with the case file and an assortment of other objects from his desk drawer.

"Oh, come on, Prof. I'll be fun." It took all of Lucy's effort not to grin at the obvious discomfort of her mentor and superior. Evidently it was Placid Prof in the driving seat today, Lucy was pretty sure Potty Prof would be jumping at the chance to visit a real crime scene again.

With a sigh, Alfendi glanced over and muttered something about the dictionary definition of fun. "Come along then," he huffed as he opened the door for her, "let's get this over with."

* * *

Barely an hour later, both inspector and constable were careening down a crowded street after a runaway suspect. All this had done was solidify Alfendi's belief that this man, Filch, was in fact the culprit. "Prof, he's getting away!" Lucy yelled as she surged on ahead, trying to catch the criminal before he disappeared around the corner. Before Alfendi could shout a warning to her, Lucy had been swallowed up by the darkness that was the little alley.

Slowing to a jog, Alfendi felt for the gun he'd hastily shoved into his pocket earlier. Its weight against his leg simultaneously calmed and terrified the inspector. Even after four years he had yet to wield the weapon. "Not now," he muttered as he curled his shaking hand into a fist. Squaring his shoulders, he set off down the alley in hopes of catching up to the fearless, lunatic constable he'd been assigned.

The sounds of a fight up ahead sent him racing forward, sudden panic washing over him. "Baker?" he called as he emerged into a warehouse courtyard. At the other end of the courtyard Lucy and Filch appeared to be in a bit of a skirmish, but Alfendi was pleased to note that Lucy was doing rather well at holding her own.

That brief moment of elation was soon shattered when Alfendi felt something cold and cylindrical press against the back of his neck. "Let the nice man go there, young lady," a voice called from behind him. Lucy, who had just unhooked the handcuffs from her belt, stopped and looked up at the sound.

"Prof!" she cried, losing her grip on Filch. The slimy little man wasted no time in taking advantage of the distraction, snatching the handcuffs from Lucy and slamming them shut on her wrists. "Ooh, you cheeky bugger," she snarled when she realised what had happened and Alfendi couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him. That was his Lucy.

The oaf who had managed to sneak up on him shoved him forward, just as Filch began tugging Lucy towards the open door of a particularly dilapidated looking warehouse. _Lovely_ , Alfendi thought with a sigh. "Try anything, and I'll blow your brains out," the oaf growled in his ear.

"No promises," Alfendi growled back, stopping himself short when he realised just who had spoken. Now really wasn't a good time. It took a considerable amount of effort for Alfendi to allow himself to be manhandled into the warehouse, but the overwhelming knowledge that Lucy needed him in sound mind helped. While Filch tied Lucy to a chair in the centre of the room, Alfendi found himself being shoved to his knees beside a support column. Filch's accomplice, who Alfendi belatedly recognised as the security guard from the scene of the crime, produced some sturdy looking rope and began to wind it around Alfendi's wrists and the column. Unfortunately for the inspector, it appeared the guard knew what he was doing, there would be no escaping these bonds any time soon.

Once Filch was satisfied that both hostages would be going nowhere fast, he sat down at the table across from Lucy. "Well, credit where credit's due, you both figured it out a lot faster than I was expecting," he said, flashing them both a genial smile. "What gave me away?"

"Why do you care?" Lucy snapped, tugging at the rope surrounding her.

Filch actually laughed at that. "I want to know what not to do next time." He stood up and stalked around the table, a dark expression shadowing his face. "And you're going to tell me, NOW!"

"Believe me, Mister Filch," Alfendi said calmly, "there won't be a next time. So you've no need to know what caught my attention." He raised his eyes to meet the smaller man's, risking the slightest glance in Lucy's direction to see whether she had cottoned on yet. In that instant, he missed Filch glance toward his own partner and as such wasn't expecting the punch that sent him crashing to the ground.

"So much bravado, _Mister Layton,"_ Filch snarled as he left Lucy and stormed over to Alfendi. "Go make sure we aren't disturbed," he muttered to the now silent guard before crouching down and grabbing the lapel of Alfendi's coat, dragging him back onto his knees. "Let's try a different question, who else knows you figured it out?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to figure that one out yourself." This time, Alfendi spotted the foot headed for his ribs just in time to absorb the shock. No doubt it would still leave a lovely bruise. It took a few deep breaths to keep the "potty" side of himself in check. The last thing this situation needed was _him_ coming out to play. "No amount of abuse is going to get me to talk, Filch," he hissed between gritted teeth.

Instead of the snide look Alfendi had been expecting from Filch, he was graced with a sickening grin that even Potty would have been proud of. Suddenly, Alfendi wasn't so sure of himself. "You're right," Filch said with a solemn nod. "But I wonder if your partner here will be so silent." He turned and faced Lucy, whose horrified gaze flickered between Alfendi and Filch and back again. Filch began advancing on the small detective, and as her features fell into a mask of forced calm, Alfendi snapped.

"Don't you dare touch her!"

The floodgates opened and all the wrath of the "potty prof" rained down. "I swear if you hurt her in any way I'll cut your tongue out in the most painful, agonising way you can imagine, you snivelling, odious little cretin." He struggled against the rope, ignoring the way it bit into his wrists as he strained to gather his feet beneath him. "I'll make you suffer in ways you can't even comprehend, I'll rip you to pieces if you even touch her, you pathetic little man."

At his outburst, Filch stopped in his tracks and watched in mild fascination as the inspector loosed every violent threat and insult he could think of, all while wrestling with the rope binding him to the column. The wicked smirk he had been wearing slowly faded away to a queasy sort of frown. When Alfendi finally ran out of threats and sank to his knees once more, he laughed. "Really inspector, was that meant to frighten me?"

"No," the inspector said between ragged gasps, "it was meant to distract you from her." A vicious grin bloomed across his face as he looked up, slowly sliding his gaze past Filch. For his part, Filch spun on his heel, only to be greeted by a fist to his temple. He crumpled to the ground without even another sound.

Standing over the fallen culprit, Lucy shook out her fist, muttering curses under her breath. "Blood and sand," she hissed as she cradled her hand to her chest, "that 'urt!" She nudged Filch with the toe of her boot, probably making sure he was actually unconscious, before stepping over him and hurrying across to Alfendi. "Y'alright there, Prof?" she asked as she knelt down next to him. Without the adrenaline of minutes ago, Alfendi was exhausted. He groaned and let his body slump forward, apparently scaring Lucy more than his usual outbursts did, as she cried out and grabbed his shoulders, gently leaning him back against the post he was still tied to.

With a tired smile, Alfendi muttered "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'll be fine in a minute." He shifted to relieve some of the strain on his wrists. "I don't suppose you could untie me now could you?" he asked.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry, Prof," Lucy laughed. She fiddled with the knots for a few minutes before stilling. "Um…"

Alfendi was sure he didn't like the sound of that. "What?" he said, whipping around to glower at her.

"I think I may have made it worse." She risked a look at the inspector, and he swore he actually saw the lightbulb moment spark in her eyes. "Ee, I know, I'll ring Hilda and tell her to come get us." Before he could protest, the eager young constable had already made the call. "She'll be ten minutes, Prof," Lucy said cheerfully, "She said she's just grabbing her camera first."

Inhaling deeply and closing his eyes, Alfendi leaned back against the post again. "Wonderful," he muttered, "Just wonderful."

* * *

A/N: So there you go. This was just a little bit of fun based of a post I saw on Tumblr about Potty Prof being very protective of his little constable. ( theaurorazephyrblade - post/104385305292/sothis-well-this-time-i-imagined-that-alfendi) I've no idea where that ending came from to be honest. It wasn't supposed to be that silly. Anyhow, enjoy and leave a review if you like.


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